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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124533">Unfulfilled</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill'>adrianna_m_scovill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order: SVU, Trouble in the Heights (2011)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, but barely, but not really smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:28:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For a birthday request, Olivia Benson and Nevada Ramirez.</p>
<p>Not exactly what it was supposed to be, but who knows? Maybe they'll try again someday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Olivia Benson/Nevada Ramirez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unfulfilled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_now/gifts">Ava_now</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benson still had half a drink when the rest of the squad cleared out of the bar, and she waved them off with a smile when they offered to wait for her or share a car, pretending she hadn’t planned it this way so she could have a few minutes alone. </p>
<p>“Finally,” a voice said beside her.</p>
<p>She glanced sideways as the man sidled up to the bar where she’d moved after everyone else left—to free up the table, ostensibly, but maybe so she wouldn’t look quite so pathetic sitting alone—and saw a flash of dark denim and black leather. She didn’t bother looking further. </p>
<p>She got a whiff of his cologne—the kind of cologne that tried too hard to smell expensive—and took a moment to lament the loss of cigarette smoke that used to cloud the air of every bar. “Excuse me?” she asked without looking at him, making sure she let the disinterest color her voice.</p>
<p>“I’ve been waiting for your <em>cops</em> to leave,” he said, putting a deliberate amount of disdain in the emphasized word, and she almost smiled in spite of herself.</p>
<p>“I’m a cop.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” he answered easily, “but you’re the <em>boss</em>.”</p>
<p>“Is that supposed to mean I’m not really one of them?”</p>
<p>“It means you know what you want.”</p>
<p>“And let me guess,” she said, turning toward him and purposely swiveling her knees into his space. “You think that’s you?” She felt a jolt of surprise as she got her first real look at him, and her heart stumbled before kicking into an uneven gallop. </p>
<p>So many of his features were familiar; similar. His hair was darker, slicker. He had a day or two’s worth of stubble. His eyes seemed darker, but she suspected that was a trick of lighting or attitude.</p>
<p>No, it wasn’t Rafael Barba, but he could be his brother. Or, perhaps what Barba might’ve become if he’d taken a different path, if a few more doors had been slammed in his young face, if he’d chosen a different method of fighting. </p>
<p>She hadn’t seen Barba in a year, except via occasional video chat while he traveled the country trying to fight injustice and right wrongs. She loved him for that, but she wasn’t sure she would ever truly forgive him for walking away from her and <em>their</em> fight for justice. </p>
<p>The man beside her now wasn’t Barba, but she felt a flare of anger that he <em>wasn’t</em>. </p>
<p>He flashed his teeth in a grin. “Let me buy you a stronger drink and maybe I am.”</p>
<p>He hadn’t moved out of her way, and her knees were bracketing one of his thighs, almost touching the tight denim. He was leaned carelessly against the bar, full of cocky assurance. </p>
<p>“And what do you want?” she asked. She expected something of a song and dance—innuendos and suggestive smiles—but he didn’t bother mincing words.</p>
<p>“I would think it’s obvious,” he said with a lopsided shrug, “but okay. I want to fuck you.” She was taken aback by his bluntness, but the sudden squirm in her lower belly wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He tipped his head a little closer. “And you’ll never have to see me again unless you decide to go slumming in Washington Heights.”</p>
<p>“What makes you think I want to go slumming <em>tonight</em>?” It was a low blow, and meaner than she’d like to think of herself, but she was annoyed. Annoyed that she’d been read so easily—it would be pointless to pretend she hadn’t been considering a hookup when she’d stayed behind after the squad left. Annoyed that he reminded her so much of someone she missed. Annoyed that she found his arrogance, normally a turn-off, attractive.</p>
<p>Annoyed that she wasn’t drunk enough to be able to blame alcohol for the fact that she was seriously considering fucking him. </p>
<p>He flashed his teeth in a grin. “Can’t police the gutter if you don’t visit once in awhile.”</p>
<p>She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Romantic.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” He leaned closer, fingering the rim of his glass on the bar. “Is it romance you’re looking for?”</p>
<p>“No,” she admitted. He wasn’t touching her, despite his closeness, and she found herself fighting the urge to shift against him. “There are a dozen women in here who are half my age. If you came over here because you thought I’d be some desperate, easy mark just grateful for your coveted attention—”</p>
<p>He laughed, flattening a palm against his chest and lifting his eyebrows. His eyes sparkled in the low light. “<em>Coveted</em>? You flatter me,” he said, his smirk adding that he knew exactly how many men and women had been eyeing him. “I know what I want, too…” He paused, waiting for a name that she didn’t offer, before continuing, “and I never take the easy way.”</p>
<p>“You remind me of someone,” she confessed.</p>
<p>“Lucky him.” He took a drink while he considered. “Or maybe not,” he said after correctly interpreting the grimace that twisted her features. “This asshole break your heart or something? Want me to pay him a visit?”</p>
<p>“No, and it’s complicated.”</p>
<p>He looked up and made a face of exaggerated concentration, like he was trying to solve a complicated math problem.</p>
<p>“It’s complicated, and no,” she amended, amused in spite of herself. </p>
<p>He smiled. “I can work with that.”</p>
<p>“What’s your name?”</p>
<p>“Thought you’d never ask. Nevada,” he said, holding out a hand. She looked from it to his face and arched a brow. “No?” He shrugged and grabbed his drink instead. “What can I call you?” he asked, downing the last of the amber liquor while waiting for her response. </p>
<p>“Olivia.”</p>
<p>“Another drink, Olivia?”</p>
<p>“No, I’m leaving.”</p>
<p>“Oh? And what about me, am I leaving?”</p>
<p>“You don’t strike me as a guy who likes being told what to do.”</p>
<p>“<em>No te preocupes, tú eres la que manda</em>.”</p>
<p>She leaned forward, brushing her knee against his leg. “<em>No necesito de tu permiso</em>.”</p>
<p>He grinned with his tongue between his teeth, and for a moment he looked so much like Barba that the resemblance caused her physical pain. But then Nevada waggled his eyebrows at her and the illusion was broken. Some of their features were similar, but their mannerisms, and the way they carried themselves, were worlds apart. </p>
<p>“Tell ya what,” he said, pulling out a wallet and dropping a couple of folded bills onto the bar, “I’ll go outside and get a car. Maybe you join me, maybe you don’t…” He straightened away from the bar and flashed a smile. “Olivia,” he said, her name like a caress of his tongue. He touched his fingers to her leg for only a moment, and then he was sauntering away without a backward glance. </p>
<p>He was standing beside the open back door of a black car when she walked outside, and his smug smile would be more infuriating if he didn’t look genuinely delighted to see her approaching. He immediately slipped his cell phone into an inner pocket of his jacket and put his hand on the top of the door, raising his eyebrows at her.</p>
<p>She looked in at the driver, who was tapping out a text with his thumbs and not appearing to pay any attention to her or Nevada. She knew immediately that this wasn’t a hired car; it was Nevada’s car, and his driver, and she knew nothing about either man except a single name.</p>
<p>She wasn’t drunk enough to be stupid and reckless, but the truth was undeniable. She wanted to get into the car, to go to a seedy motel for a rough and dirty fuck with someone she would never see again. It had been over a decade since she’d been so irresponsible, but she was too old to feel guilty or ashamed about the pull of desire propelling her toward the car.</p>
<p>“You get in first,” she said.</p>
<p>Nevada grinned, a predatory glint of teeth that gave her a thrill of desire rather than fear. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, turning with a flourish and folding himself easily into the backseat of the car. Benson resisted the urge to glance around for witnesses as though she were doing something wrong, and instead climbed in after him and pulled the door closed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*       *       *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pinned her against the wall, his knee between her thighs and his hands rough as he pulled impatiently at the buttons of her blouse. She slapped his hands away and undid the fasteners herself, turning her face when he tried to kiss her. Undeterred, he ducked his head and sucked at the side of her neck, nipping lightly at her skin while his hands slid into her shirt and traveled up her sides. He unhooked her bra before she’d even managed to get the shirt fully unbuttoned.</p>
<p>He pushed his hips forward, grinding his crotch against her for a few seconds. His jeans were stretched tight over his erection, surely uncomfortable at best, but he’d made no move to remove his own clothing.</p>
<p>She grabbed his hair and tugged his head up. “No marks that’ll last the night,” she warned.</p>
<p>He made a low sound, possibly equal parts affirmation and frustration, but he didn’t argue. He pulled her away from the wall and pushed her shirt off her shoulders and down her arms before quickly removing her bra. He bent his head, pulling one hardened nipple into his mouth, and she gasped as she arched involuntarily toward him. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of her slacks, and then his hands were inside her panties, cupping her ass to pull her tight against his taut fly.</p>
<p>She didn’t want marks that she might have to explain, but she wasn’t going to tell him to be gentle. She could feel a dull anger simmering inside of her, and while she didn’t want to examine it too closely, her fingers were itching to claw at his skin, to use him as an outlet for an anger that he hadn’t earned.</p>
<p>She pushed him back, holding his jacket as she turned to shove him against the wall. He grunted and shifted, clearly annoyed, but he helped when she started to strip him out of his jacket and shirt. He pulled his black tank top over his head while she unbuttoned and carefully unzipped his fly. She was surprised to find that he wasn’t wearing underwear, although she didn’t have long to contemplate how uncomfortable that must be before he’d pushed her hands aside and shoved his jeans down his hips.</p>
<p>He paused for a moment and pulled off his rings, quickly pocketing them before pulling out two foil packets: a condom and lube. He held the latter up, raising his eyebrows in question. Her underwear already felt damp, clingy, and she shook her head. He shoved the lube packet back into his pocket, tucked the condom between his teeth, and stripped the rest of the way out of his jeans and shoes.</p>
<p>He was naked, a gold cross glinting in the unruly curls on his chest. He was fully hard, glistening wetly now that he’d been freed from the tight confines of denim. She felt a pull of desire so intense that it stole her breath for a moment, but something stopped her from pushing her pants off her hips.</p>
<p>“You can mark me up however you want, just not the face,” he said after taking the condom packet from between his teeth. His voice was gruff, full of lust, his eyes dark as he stared at her. He reached for her waist but she pushed his hand away. “You better handcuff me if you don’t want me touch,” he warned.</p>
<p>“I want your hands busy,” she shot back, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand down the front of her pants, “just where I tell you.”</p>
<p>He spread her open in the confines of her panties, slipping his fingers along her slickness, and she shuddered as the rough pad of his finger found her clit. Her thighs clamped reflexively around his wrist and she grabbed his shoulder to steady herself.</p>
<p>“So tell me where,” he teased in a low voice, sliding his fingers further into her damp heat. She felt his fingertips graze over her opening and she throbbed, closing her eyes as she drew a breath. She felt a sense of unreality washing over her, dulling the ache of desire between her legs as the world seemed to tilt around her.</p>
<p>“Wait,” she said before she knew she was going to speak, and she fumbled for his wrist to pull his hand away.</p>
<p>“What?” he asked, and there was no mistaking the annoyance in his voice. She couldn’t blame him. After all, she’d been the one to shove his hand into her pants.</p>
<p>“I can’t do this,” she said, taking an abrupt step backward and wincing as the drag of his hand leaving her pants pulled at her curls of hair.</p>
<p>“What?” he repeated, with more bite in the word this time. “Why?”</p>
<p>“I can’t use you to get back at someone else.” She bent and snatched her shirt and bra off the floor.</p>
<p>“Why the fuck not?” he asked, stepping toward her as she moved away from him.</p>
<p>“It’s not fair to anyone, especially you.”</p>
<p>“You think I care who the fuck you think about? Pick a lie you wanna believe and I’ll go along—”</p>
<p>“No, I can’t,” she said, biting back the apology that tried to follow. She slipped on her bra and managed to hook it with trembling fingers. “I’ll pay for the room,” she offered. She’d let him check in, not keen on the idea of being seen and possibly recognized.</p>
<p>“You’re <em>leaving</em>?” There was more disbelief than actual anger in his voice, although she supposed the latter would come soon enough. She shoved her arms into her sleeves and started buttoning her shirt. “Are you fucking kidding?”</p>
<p>“No,” she said, grabbing up her purse and reaching in for her wallet.</p>
<p>“I don’t want your fucking money,” he hissed, and there it was. Anger. He clenched his hands into fists, squeezing the foil packet into one palm. “Just get out, then.”</p>
<p>Part of her still wanted to stay. She knew it would be hours before the ache between her legs went away, even if she finished herself off when she got home.</p>
<p>She left the room quickly before she could change her mind, and she heard a string of violent curses, followed by a thud and muffled crash, behind her. Despite his anger, she felt guilty for leaving so abruptly without warning. She couldn’t blame him for being upset. She felt angry and frustrated, herself, and she was the one who’d ended things.</p>
<p>She fished out her phone as she walked briskly toward the street, meaning to call for a ride instead of trying to catch a taxi. Her steps faltered as she looked down at the screen and saw that she’d missed a text.</p>
<p><em>Barba</em>.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Sorry to text so late. It’s official, I’ll be back in the city next weekend. Drinks? Dinner?</strong>
</p>
<p>She blinked the sting of tears from her eyes and shook her head, opening up the app to get a car. She would figure out how to answer him when she was home. She looked back over her shoulder, half-expecting Nevada to chase after her.</p>
<p>She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t disappointed to find him nowhere in sight.</p>
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